


The Long Fall

by Cornerofmadness



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Episode: s01e13 Wait and Hope, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22660918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/pseuds/Cornerofmadness
Summary: Falling out of a three story window hurt like hell.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 136
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	The Long Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** Not mine, , Chris Fedak and Sam Sklaver owns it
> 
> **Notes:** written for brumeier in comment_fic for the prompt Prodigal Son, Malcolm Bright +/ Any, Dazed and Confused. It’s set within _Wait and Hope_.

XXX

The ride to the hospital had been an exercise in him being dazed and confused. Malcolm remembered leaping out the third story window barely ahead of the Black Widow’s concussive blast, which could have torn him apart. The terror of free fall would remain forever seared into his memory especially when he ended up flipped onto his back and thoughts of exploding like a rotten watermelon danced through his mind. That fall had taken his entire life and no time at all in the same space of a few panicked breaths. The shriek of glass shattering and metal deforming around him as he slammed into the rag top joined the free fall in his new deposit for the nightmare fuel bank.

He had vague memories of making a joke about missing his flight before curling into a ball of misery. Everything hurt and his white suit stuck to him where he bled from shards of flying glass. Malcolm recalled asking for Edrisa to patch him up so he could keep on working once he got his breath. To her credit, she did check him out, mostly to mollify him while Gil fished his bag out of the wreckage of the Le Mans. Afterwards, Gil and JT picked him up bodily on Edrisa’s orders and dumped him into Dani’s car so they wouldn’t have to wait on an ambulance. Gil tossed his bag in the back saying he’d probably want to change at the hospital because the white suit was likely a loss. No one sounded sad about that.

Magnetized bubble light on the top of her car, Dani rocketed him to the hospital. Later all Malcolm could piece together from his dazed brain were memories of the frantic glances cast his way as if his silence frightened her. Oh, it probably did. He could talk so much, desperate to fill any silence because in those quiet spaces his demons lurked. No one will listen to you. Your ideas are always off kilter. You’re wrong. You’re broken. No one wants you around. You’re the product of a monster. _We’re the same!_ Malcolm knew those thoughts were a product of his battered self-esteem and anxiety but knowing that did nothing to help. 

His chest hurt too much from having the wind knocked out of him. He couldn’t talk much, even if he wanted to. Luckily the ride to the hospital had been quick or maybe he’d blacked out. He couldn’t quite be sure. The medical staff waited for them at the emergency room and loaded him onto a gurney, wheeling him directly into the ER while Dani went to park. She showed up within minutes, with his bag in hand. Eventually he’d been X-rayed especially for head and back injuries, his weak hand examined very carefully for signs of refracture. They eventually put him through CT scans to rule out brain hemorrhage, pneumo or hemothoraxes and to be sure the tissues still tender from the stabbing hadn’t burst back open. They patched up all the small cuts, dug glass out of him and let him change the bloodied, ruined suit out for his more usual type that was in the bag Dani had.

It slowly filtered into his battered brain that Dani had been seeing a little too much of him lately. His suits were his armor, a touchstone to help calm his mind. When he was well dressed, he felt fortified to fight all comers. Dani had spent part of this day looking at him in a thin hospital gown as he was wheeled from one imaging spot to another. She had seen him in a gown – at first- when he was hospitalized after Watkins’s attack and later in his preferred sleepwear. He wasn’t used to being so vulnerable in front of people. Was that why he froze mid-profile, looking up at her as his hands trembled on the landmine? No, it was because he wanted to blurt out ‘thank you for caring. Mother is right. You are my best friend,’ because he’d been afraid he was about to die. 

Best friend? Maybe or maybe something else. He was very confused by the jumble of feelings that welled up every time he dealt with Dani. He followed her to the car, feeling a bit better but that was probably the muscle relaxer mixing with his daily meds. He poured himself into the seat. Dani got in behind the wheel.

“Home?”

He shook his head, wincing. His neck was going to give him fits tomorrow. “The precinct. They could use our help.”

“Everyone would understand if you took off the rest of the day, Bright. You did literally fall three stories.”

“And miss out on a crime scene inspired by one of my favorite books?” He grinned and she shook her head, snorting.

She took off toward the station. “I’m telling Gil I tried to stop you.”

He chuckled. “He knows how I am. Have they texted or called while I was in testing?”

“The bomb destroyed almost everything and they hauled Gil’s car to the station so CSU could go over it in case any evidence got blown out the window into it. They’ll want your suit too.”

“I know. I have it bagged in a garbage bag at the moment.” Malcolm sighed. “Is the car a loss?”

“Totally.”

He winced. “Dani, Gil loves that car.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean _loves_ that car. You’ve seen it. You could see your reflection in that paint job. He probably talks to it when I’m not looking. He knows I’m not a car person. He took it to car cruises.” Malcolm sighed. “He is going to be so mad.”

“Maybe, but he loves something else more,” Dani replied softly, her gaze slipping over to him. “And you know it. He’d give up that car a thousand times if it saved your life each time.”

He looked out the window, unable to meet her eye. It wasn’t that she was wrong. He knew that Gil loved him and now the team knew it too. It was that when she was vulnerable like this with him, and he with her, he knew he was in danger of blurting out all the things he wanted to say. If he did, everything would change and he wasn’t ready for that. He had half remembered snippets of conversation about her not having many friends, having trust issues. He didn’t want to overstep the boundaries. It might be too soon. Then again, he nearly died twice in just a matter of weeks. Maybe he should think about talking with her but this wasn’t the time or the place. “Yeah, I know. But I also know I’m going to be hearing about this car forever. Years from now, I’ll be minding my own business and Gil will be, remember that time you _destroyed_ my car?”

“He’ll probably work in that suit too.”

“No doubt.”

“For what it’s worth, if I were you, I’d call the airport and see if I could catch a plane to Tahiti after all because personally I’d kill for that opportunity.” She grinned.

“It is quite a lovely resort.”

“That’s right, Bright. Rub it in.”

“But it doesn’t have a case this interesting.”

“I’m beginning to think JT is right and you _are_ nuts.”

He ducked his head, flashing a quick smile. “Well my mother _did_ basically tell the police psychiatrist that I’m crazy and I should be fired.”

“I know. That shouldn’t have made us laugh but…”

Malcolm shook his head. “I know, trust me.”

Dani reached over and patted his arm. “Why don’t you shut your eyes and try to rest a little until we get to the station.”

Malcolm obeyed. He wouldn’t sleep but maybe he could let his mind clear. He wasn’t lying about how exciting this case was. He liked weird things and this was extremely weird. He shouldn’t be this excited about a murder but there he was. Working was the one thing that didn’t leave him confused. Malcolm knew he was doing what he was meant to do. Now if only that would give him the fortitude to look Gil in the face when he got to the station. He really did feel bad about the Le Mans but at least he was alive to feel guilty. Ideas were percolating in his head now, shoving the guilt out. It was going to be an interesting case and he looked forward to the challenge. He wasn’t a resort type of guy anyhow. This was much more his speed.


End file.
